


Fragments of Shadows of Worldview

by Phoenix_Ryzing



Category: Worldview (Webcomic)
Genre: Desperation, Family, Family Feels, Gen, Hope, Medical Professionals, Medical Trauma, Sick Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:14:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28512495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phoenix_Ryzing/pseuds/Phoenix_Ryzing
Summary: Worldview, the original story of Alaina Prana, as of yet not release in full. This. . . is not that story.This is a collection of fragments of a story based in Worldview, little scenes of an upcoming series "Shadows of Worldview." Within will sorrow, pain, and abuse. But also hope, perseverance, and perhaps even a happy ending. For now, this is my forays into understanding the story I wish to tell, little stabs in the dark.These may be altered, edited, removed, or moved at any point. The stories are fragments, shards of a greater whole--cohesion will come with time.At times, the themes within will be quite dark. Medical issues/abuse, child abuse, sexual abuse; will all play parts in this story. Nothing will be glorified, nothing explicitly told. But reality is dark, and the story will reflect that.That being said, mind the tags.This is the story of a girl with a broken soul: Shadow Stein, a girl born destined to an early end, given a second chance . . . at a great cost ; and her quest to justify one accusation: why do you deserve to live?
Relationships: Family - Relationship, Friendship - Relationship





	1. Introductions: The Cast

**Doctor Shadow Stein**

Soul Color: Purple with white patches and a green shell

Magic: Soul-Repair 

Occupation: Doctor under Doctor Fresh Queen and foster mom

Family: Lux and Dusk Stein (parents), Twilight Stein (aunt), foster children: Raven, Aster, Nemesis, Amaya

**Doctor Dusk Stein**

Soul Color: Green

Magic: Necromancy

Occupation: Researcher (Doctor of ??? (soul studies))

Family: Lux Stein (Wife), Twilight Stein (older sister), Shadow Stein (Daughter)

**Doctor Lux Stein**

Soul Color: Blank/White

Magic: Blank/Healing magic

Occupation: Healer, head nurse at a hospital

Family: Dusk Stein (husband), Dazzle Melain (older brother), Star Melain (younger brother), Shadow Stein (Daughter)


	2. Fragment: Shadow's Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shadow is removed from life support and handed to her parents, her body slowly dying as her incomplete soul failed.
> 
> Triggers: child illness, desperation, referenced child death, parental guilt, parental self-blame, just if you've had a kid in a hospital don't read this
> 
> Happy Ending

_It couldn't be happening_ , Lux thought to herself, staring at the bed where her three-year-old daughter, Shadow, lay. Her eyes were hot, tears cried out the night before.

_We can't continue the treatment. I'm sorry._

Money. It came down to money. They had spent every red cent they had, borrowed and begged everyone they could, got every payment plan on the planet.

It wasn't enough.

Dusk tightly hugged his wife, his face cold as stone--the only way he could keep from forcing the hospital to continue his daughter's life-giving magic infusions. He was a necromancer. If he had to yank their souls out and deal with the Reapers when they came, he would. He would. It was only his small wife, small but no less fierce, that stopped him. If she hadn't broken, he couldn't. She had it so much worse.

She was a healer.

Lux pulled out her soul, stared at its perfect whiteness. Blank magic, a rarity. Perfect for transfers. Perfect for healing. How much magic had she donated to her child? As much as her soul could bare. And it wasn't enough. Not enough. 

Both parents faces were gaunt, from grief, from their sacrifices. Food reduced to bare necessities, vitamins and calories to fuel their double, triple shifts. As much work as they could get. Pushing their bodies to the brink, just to earn a little bit more.

It wasn't just the magic drips. That was expensive, yes. Three years especially. But her poor baby girl . . .nothing seemed to work right. She was hooked up like an elderly person--she had to be. The girl had barely left her bed in three years of life. Her mind suffered for it, so they did what they could. Sang to her, held her little hands, made sure she had some visual stimuli, to keep her mind growing and nurtured like a normal child.

A normal child.

Lux's lips curled in a parody of a smile. Was it her fault? Shadow's poor soul . . . was it her genes that had done it? Dusk came from a near-cult of a family, necromancer's all. His soul type was strong, so strong . . . he had a strong soul, strong genes. Even appearance-wise Shadow resembled him. Dark hair, pale skin . . . but amber eyes, just like Lux's. Eyes were the windows of the soul--was her soul from Lux? 

Dusk had told her she was foolish to think that way. "Blank magic is rare and wholesome," he had said. Did her soul not allow her to save so many others? Was not it compatible with everyone?

And Shadow. What soul type did she have? No one knew--no one dared take a biopsy when it was so tiny, so ill-formed. Maybe it was necromancy, maybe it was even more rare. They didn't know. Maybe its rareness was why it was so holey . . . but it was speculation. All of it was speculation. They didn't _know_ and that made it worse of all.

Lux's eyes filled with tears, the hot drops hitting her white soul that she hugged to her chest. It seemed so fragile right now, so weak. She'd given every last bit she could spare to Shadow, the last magic drips. When that ran out . . . at 5 p.m. . . . her baby girl would be unhooked. 

She'd taken off work that day, as had Dusk. They . . . they weren't sure what they would do when Shadow was unhooked. When . . . when she died. A half-hour. That's how long Shadow could live without assistance. After that, her brain functions would . . . cease. If her weak heart and lungs didn't shut down first. 

Lux hated them. The hospital staff. All the hospitals in the area. All the people in the area, all the ones that had failed her family. Money. Was it all about the damn money? Yes, yes. Her family could have left. But HOW. The hospital wouldn't move her. The town wouldn't help. Shadow . . . shadow wouldn't survive a trip to the next town, an hour away, without medical aid. They were trapped.

Dusk just bowed his head. It was his fault. He was in too deep with _them_. _They_ didn't care if his daughter lived or died. They just wanted his service. He was a talented necromancer . . . a very talented one. His family had old roots in the town . . . old connections. He never should have gone to them. Yes, the money was good. But the requests . . . the tasks . . . he had limits. Some things they asked . . . he wasn't a torturer. A killer. He knew what some colleagues did. He pretended he didn't, but in his nightmares, he couldn't block out the screams. 

He just blessed whatever stars he knew his child wasn't one of _their_ subjects.

Lux didn't know about them, directly. For her own safety she knew . . . for her frail heart, she was sure. Her husbands nightmares . . . he cried out most of the time. "Stop . . . they're just children . . . stop--!" It turned her stomach. She never asked. But she saw the shadows hiding in his eyes, and it broke her heart. 

But what could they _do?_ It was Mehlovia, not Mainstay. Or half the countries in this damn world. Here . . . did anyone care . . . ? If their daughter lived or died? . . . she wasn't sure.

White-clad nurses came in, eyes averting Lux's tear-streaked face, Dusk's haunted eyes. They moved to the bed. Started to unhook. Oxygen, heart regulator, sensors.

IV. 

Shadow had started to squirm. Her breathing went irregular . . . her color went pale. When they undid the IV, she started to cry. 

. . . she could barely cry.

She tried. But she couldn't get the breathe to scream. Just a faint whimper, a broken scream, nothing more. Lux's heart lurched, and she started forward. Dusk pulled her back, one arm around her thin waist. Lux's hands went to her mouth, horrified, as her little toddler tried and tried to scream, but couldn't even catch her breathe.

Then it stopped entirely.

_"NO!"_ Lux screamed, reaching out for her still, too still, baby; held in place, held _up_ only by Dusk's stone-like arm. He seemed chiseled from marble, every part motionless . . . except his eyes. They darted, between his wife's head beneath him, to his dying daughter, to the nurses who carefully avoided his gaze, even as they brought Shadow's limp body to him.

Lux snatched it into her hands, cradling her child to her chest, her tears dampening the thin gown her babe always wore. She could feel no motion from the babe--no pulse, no breathe, no stirring. Dimly she realized Shadow must have run out of magic a long time earlier, and only was being unhooked now because it was convenient. 

Just so that Shadow would die immediately. 

Lux's sobbing didn't abate, as Shadow's life-force slipped from her body. Dusk shut his eyes, turned his head. He was a necromancer. He could see his daughter's damn clock. He didn't want to look into details--the countdown, nearing zero, was enough. He couldn't-- no, he _wouldn't_ let himself play god like that. He never had tried. Never would. What he did was bad enough.

But still . . . as Shadow's started to rise from her chest, he grabbed it. He couldn't help it. His free hand, laced in green magic, reached out and grabbed the soul before it could fully slip away.

It was if Lux could sense the magic in front of her. Her eyes, already red from weeping, her sight blurred from countless tears, caught sight of the soul. So small. So _small_. She didn't have a free hand to compare, not that she needed. 

Shadow's soul wasn't even the size of her palm--while her own was larger than her spread fingers.

She saw the green magic grab the purple, showing where the soul should have ended, a good inch on each side. And. . . the holes. Like swiss cheese. One affliction would cause life-long medical issues. Both . . . how could anyone survive that? 

Lux watched the soul, watched how it seemed to drain of color, and something within her own heart snapped. Closing her eyes and turning her face, she let out a strangled howl, before whipping her face back, her eyes glowing fiercely.

Instantly Shadow's soul lit up with bright light, a strong glow that nearly blinded the nurses, who stood at the door to watch. 

"A soul transfusion?" one muttered.

"Without any equipment?" the other replied. "It'll slip away."

Dusk heard, heard and opened his eyes, their dark shade almost obscured by green light. He was checking. Checking. 

. . . 

It was . . . no. It wouldn't stay.

But it was _working_.

He could feel his wife shaking in his arm as she poured every ounce of her magic into her daughter. The light had turned solid, magic filling in the holes slowly, so slowly; the small soul swelling to a more normal size as it filled with magic for the first time in--ever. 

But more than what went in fell out again. A white miasma around Shadow's soul, held in place only--only--by his magic? His magic, gripping, cradling, Shadow's own.

Several realizations snapped into place. A soul container. If it can contain soul material, it could contain magic. Had he not made these containers before? Was doing so instinctually? And his vision--the clock was ticking _up_. Not completely unusual. But whatever Lux was doing--imbuing her own soul into Shadow's-- _was WORKING._

He wasn't sure exactly that what they two of them were doing was remotely legal or sane or safe and right now _he didn't care_.

"Keep it up honey," he said, holding her shaking body in one arm, and reaching out to grasp Shadow's soul more fully in the other. His eyes flared as he poured every ounce of ability he had into making that container, making it perfect, making it _stay_ even when he wasn't providing magic. _Make a shell,_ he told himself. A _magic shell, big enough for the soul to grow, strong enough to last a lifetime. A LIFETIME._

He could feel the strain on his own soul doing this--his actions would not be without consequence. But he knew Lux was paying the greater cost.

Lux trembled, fighting her soul, fighting her fear, She knew already that her soul would surely crack from this--if it hadn't cracked already. She was dangerously weak, her body crying for magic, but still she poured what she had into her baby girl because _Shadow was ALIVE_. 

The child was breathing again, weakly, her pulse fluttering terribly, but she was _alive_. Lux could cry if she could do anything except focus on pouring her soul's lifeblood into her daughter, every ounce the child would take.

The soul swelled, the holes closed up. Finally, finally, it seemed to flash--and beat, ever so slightly. Lux could feel her magic not being gobbled up anymore--she knew from experience in the E.R. no more would help, not right now. She collapsed to her knees, or would have if Dusk had not braced his feet.

For himself, he held into the soul for a few moments longer, double and triple checking the soul and his container. He dived deeper than he ever had into the details, and received a shock--his daughter's magic, before nearly impossible to tell, was displayed as Soul-Repair magic. The irony set him to laughing, laughing so hard he nearly dropped the exhausted Lux and Shadow.

A small hand reached up and tugged on his coat. "D-daddy . . .?" a small voice said, and Dusk opened his eyes to see the soul back in its home--and his daughter looking at him curiously. "What . . . . laughing . . . ?" she asked, then yawned loudly. He knew she meant, what was the joke, but the validity of the question hurt him, and sobered him faster than freezing water. 

They needed to get out of here. _NOW_.

Dusk leaned down and picked up Lux and Shadow, cradling them to his chest. He was a big man--close to seven foot and build like a bear--and Lux was far smaller, being just over five feet tall. His soul ached, yes; but he knew Lux had given the lion's share of magic that day and could not walk. He could, and _had to_.

The nurses, still in the doorway, took one look at his face and hurried away, whispering. And as he left the hospital, he heard more whispering, heads peeking around doorways. 

Let them look. Let them know why he was a Stein, why his family had a _name_ here for necromancy-- _and not the good kind_. 

It was a bluff, but Dusk didn't even let himself know how far he would be willing to do to get his family out of there, alive. He left the hospital, went to his car in the parking lot. It was snowing, but that was normal this far north. He laid Lux in the backseat, put a blanket they meant to swaddle Shadow with over her. As for his very-curious (and thus mercifully compliant) daughter, he placed her in the passenger seat with the best padding he could manage. 

They weren't expecting to need a carseat.

A glance around. No one. A deep breathe, and a small smile. They did it. They _did_ it. 

But no time to celebrate.

For the next few days, Dusk drove while Shadow stared out of the window and Lux slept. Her soul had cracked, but not fatally. His own had been over-extended and had a fracture, but again, nothing too bad. Shadow seemed fine, if unused to being out of bed. Her soul . . . it looked ugly, but he didn't care. It _worked_.

The border came up.

* * *

"So you are refugees from Mehlovia, in short," the officer across the table said. 

Dusk smiled weakly, and said, "Yes ma'am. I fear if I go back, my family will be held hostage to discover how we did what we did."

"From your report, they were holding your daughter hostage already," the officer said, filling out some papers. Dusk winced at that, and she looked up. "Oh, that was not a jab. Given the situation, you acted admirably."

"So will my family be safe here?" Dusk asked, mouth dry. He glanced to the side, and Lux and Shadow napped in a chair, exhausted from the long process of getting legal refuge. Dusk knew it wasn't necessary . . . but he didn't want to risk anything.

The officer looked between Dusk, to the sleeping girls, and then smiled. "Welcome to Mainstay, Mr. Stein. You will be seen as refugees until such time as you can attain citizenship--there's no rush. Have you any means of attaining shelter in the meantime?"

Dusk shook his head. "We spent every last penny on treatments for Shadow."

The officer nodded. "Understandable, given the circumstance. Well, I know of university a few hours from here that many use as a launching point--they will provide room and board to workers. Started by another refugee, I heard," she said.

Dusk smiled. "That _would_ be perfect. Where is it?"

The officer crossed her arms. "When is the last time you ate?" The blank expression was the only thing she needed to know the answer. "You aren't driving on an empty stomach on my watch. Here," she said, pulling out a few bills from a back pocket. "Get some good food, on me."

"But I can't--how could I repay--" Dusk started, but the officer tutted.

"None of that. Your wife and child must be starving to. So go get some good food, then get on to the university," she said, giving quick directions.

Dusk took the bills and wrote down the info on a notepad. "Thank you. _Thank you_. You have no idea . . . " he started, then shook his head. How would he know? "Thank you," he finished.

She smiled. "You're welcome, Mr. Stein. Now, go enjoy the first day of the rest of your life."


End file.
